


Not That Important

by sammyswagstar



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Calum Hood (mentioned) - Freeform, Luke Hemmings (mentioned) - Freeform, M/M, Smut, but its v vanilla boy on boy action, m/m - Freeform, marry stifford, narcissist!michael, uhhh its a lot of words for one smut scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyswagstar/pseuds/sammyswagstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Michael tilted his head back further into the pillow, deciding he was doing too much thinking for a teenage boy about to have his brains fucked out." OR Michael and Harry have turned fucking into a regular thing between them and they might as well enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not That Important

**Author's Note:**

> weeeeee I wrote this. There's smut. And it's only been edited once, so any typos are on me. My tumblr is lesbianclifford. This is my first... thingy... and I hope you like it yee. go read.

They had seen first hand how One Direction was run. They had to travel with that management team for months and every time one of them tried to point out the fact that the 1D boys had practically sold their balls to fame, they were shut down with some awkward laughs and a subject change. As a band, 5 Seconds of Summer had a lot more say in the big time calls and that was important to them. They ran their own twitter, wrote their own songs, and had the most say in their public image. When Harry Styles wears the football jersey of an openly gay player, he makes headlines on every website. When he says in an interview that being female was "not that important" all of the seasoned fans correctly predicted a management cover up right away. Michael's twitter feed was blown up with the 'LARRY IS REAL' tweets and the tabloid websites all were posting about 'Harry Styles Sexuality Scare?'

What was so scary about not liking girls, though? To Michael none of it ever made sense to him. Why the boy band's publicity team worked so hard on covering up scandals and why it was a scandal in the first place for a guy like Harry Styles to be queer. Queer was the word Harry used for it when he first came out to the Australian group. It was the first time Michael had heard it, but apparently he was the only one. Later, Michael would find out that he was queer, too. He wasn't straight, not gay, and didn't really feel confident enough to label himself somewhere in between. Truth be told, he didn't even like the word 'queer'. He just wanted to be a Michael. A Michael who loved who he loved and had sex with who he wanted to have sex with.

Michael tilted his head back further into the pillow, deciding he was doing too much thinking for a teenage boy about to have his brains fucked out. But he always did this to himself. Always had to distract himself in case he got too nervous. He was a 'clencher'. According to Harry anyway. If he focused too much on the fact that he was going to have fingers up his ass any second, his muscles tightened too much and nothing could get done. It was counterproductive to everything butt sex was about.

He was lucky that Harry was patient, but Michael had started to train his mind to run wild instead. Never too wild, though. He always kept Harry on the brain, no matter what. Now he wasn't thinking about much of anything except for that smile- he tilted his chin down again, ah yes _that_ smile- and those eyes and those-

fingers! A small moan bubbled out from between his red swollen lips. Michael caught his bottom lip between his teeth when Harry laughed. He laughed with his throat and he laughed with his eyes. Eyes that were now zeroed in on Michael's face.

"You're being quiet tonight," Harry pointed out and before Michael could answer, Harry began to pump his finger in and out, the movement giving Michael pause.

"I'm just thinking." He managed to get out after a moment.

"Oh no, not that!" And Michael wanted to hit him or kiss him or do something to wipe that smug look off of his face.

"Fuck you." He growled, but the 'you' got caught in his throat as Harry inserted another finger, catching him by surprise. He tried again, "Fucking... fuck." He gave up on trying to sound angry for the rest of the night. It was so early and he was already so wrecked.

Michael didn't mean to be quiet, though. It was just how he was. As a boy, he had gotten used to keeping his voice down as he would wank off to his mom's fashion magazines past his bedtime. And then when he began living with four other teenage boys, he continued the habit of biting down his tongue. The morning after the first time they'd caught Luke was not a happy one for the boy. The whole band knew it wasn't his fault. They all understood hormones, hell, they had firsthand experience. But it just seemed normal to make fun of Luke for it. And Michael vowed to be extra careful. He didn't want to be at the butt end of jokes.

But when he was alone with Harry in Harry's room, there was no one to hear him _but_ Harry. Still Michael kept his noises to a minimum for now. When his boyfriend- well, when his friend who was a boy that he had sex with and cuddled sometimes with- was good and ready, he knew all the right ways to make Michael _scream_.

"Shit," he gasped as Harry added one more finger, stretching him to his limits. Well, not his limits, but at the moment it felt like he couldn't be any more stuffed than he was now. There was no way he could take that cock, no way it would fit. But time after time, Michael did it and Harry would coo and compliment and Michael would _preen_. He _was_ a sex god dammit. He really _did_ take that cock up his ass like a pro. Michael prided himself on that. Harry had joked once about taping one of their sexcapades, just for the hell of it and the thought turned Michael on so much that the younger boy jumped his lover right then and there. They never did pull out a camera, though, but Michael thought about it often.

He thought about the way he must look, spread out on the bed, pale skin shining with sweat. His mouth would be parted, but no sounds coming out- not yet. He didn't have to imagine what Harry looked like, between his legs and licking his balls. And those sleek slender digits sliding in and out of him so sinfully that the devil himself would come up from hell just to see. All Michael had to do was look down to get that image. And he knew that even with his legs spread and fists clutching the sheets that he would never look as beautiful as Mr. Harry Styles.

"You look so good, Haz," he decides to say, his voice his rough as if he's had his throat fucked good and deep that night. _Oh wait. He has_. "Fuck, bet you look almost as good as me."

Harry just captures Michael's smug gaze with an adoring one and holds it there for a second before smirking and crooking his fingers to brush up against the younger boy's sweet spot. As soon as he does, Michael can't help but curse loudly and throw his head back. His vision is filled with fireworks and his hips thrust up to wordlessly beg for Harry to just fucking do that again.

But Harry doesn't. Instead he pulls his fingers out and Michael actually whines. Michael Clifford, guitar legend, _whines._ And Harry loves it. "That's not very punk rock," he teases as he gets the lube open and onto his hand. If looks could kill, the one Michael sends Harry would wipe the older boy from existence. But Harry's not bothered.

Nothing bothers Harry, Michael admires as he watches the older boy slick himself up. Michael is always quick to get frustrated or to just be impatient because he's been so good and deserves a cock inside him that instant and is tired of just _eyefucking_ that beautiful sculpted body in front of him. He really is overreacting. Harry doesn't keep him waiting long. Crawling back onto the bed, the brunette sticks his tongue out at Michael, earning a smile and similar silly face back at him.

Because in the end, they really are friends. Sure, Harry fucks Michael so good- _just like that, yes, Michael feels so full and Harry can barely stand just how fucking _tight_ the other boy is- but it doesn't mean they make things awkward for the rest of their band mates. They can have fun, they just are lucky enough to have found each other and decided to bring the fun into the bedroom. It didn't mean _anything_ really._

Or it did. Michael was finding it hard to be sure of things when Harry slid his hips back and then pushed them forward into him so deliciously. Harry could have told Michael he loved him and Michael would have returned the sentiment wholeheartedly. Because in this moment, in this sweet, sweaty moment, Michael _did_ love Harry Styles. He loved Harry for the feelings he was giving him and he loved Harry for knowing exactly the pace he wanted to be fucked at and he loved Harry for his perfect, beautiful cock and he loved Harry.

"Shit. Fuck me," Michael moaned out and he barely heard the 'If you haven't noticed, I am' in response. His ears were sort of ringing with the pleasure, and he hoped that wasn't the kind of thing he needed to see a doctor for. But the sassy comeback registered in his mind somehow, and a few moments too late he raised a hand to send a middle finger Harry's way.

Harry never saw it. He was too focused on increasing his speed- but not too fast- and wrapping a hand still slick with lube around Michael's cock- but not too rough- and leaning down to kiss Michael's collar bone- but never his kissing lips. They weren't rules that Michael had made. He would have happily taken any hard pounding Harry gave him, and he just wished that Harry would jerk him off like he meant it, and the worst was the teasing kisses. In the back of his mind, he resolved that one day he would kiss Harry Styles. Proper and on the mouth. Maybe on a date. Maybe during sex. Michael didn't linger too long on the details.

It was getting to the point in the night, where the first fuck was almost over, but both boys were still so riled up that neither one was tired enough to go to bed. And Harry was so close, so close to releasing inside Michael and Michael was practically shaking with need, just waiting for Harry's 'ok' to give in to his own bliss. And as soon as Harry's strokes increased in speed and he pressed the tip of his thumb gently into the slit at the tip of Michael's head, Michael let out a string of obscenities and came with a jolt all over his chest and Harry's hand. He was still coming down from his high- thoughts returning to him and senses working at over drive- when Harry joined him in heaven. Michael was vaguely aware of the feeling of being sticky and filled and then empty all at once, but he felt disjointed from his body until Harry collapsed on the bed next to him.

They always needed a breather- that was just basic science- and that usually included cuddling. This night was no different.

Michael wasn't really sure where he was drawing all these comparisons from, exactly. All these 'always's and 'usually's, when in reality they had only done these overnight stays at Harry's about three times prior. At the start of their relationship- if it could be called one- it was all about speed. Just getting each other off before shows, or being quick and quiet in the hotel room after a show. And then tour ended and life happened and Michael needed to stop and realize how lucky he was sometimes. He had his lips locked with an angel. An angel who taught him the word queer and whose name could appear in tomorrow's headline without warning. Michael closed his eyes as they kissed and imagined an internet headline that went something like "One Direction's Harry Styles fucks Michael Clifford of 5SOS Into Sweet Gay Oblivion". It actually had a nice ring to it and Michael had to admit that he wouldn't mind something like that. Maybe one day when Harry's sexuality wasn't owned by his band's management team. And maybe one day when Michael got the balls to actually kiss him. Yeah. One day. One day, was good.


End file.
